Christmas with Dean
by ZonateBiscuit
Summary: Just a little ficlet gifted to a dear friend of mine for Christmas - Dean/OFC (Reader, second person).


**Christmas with Dean**

Dean had a face for brooding. Lowered brow, mouth in a hard line, and a glare palpable enough to burn right through to the soul. He grunted and sulked (and lately, enclosed himself in his room for hours at a time), and was adept at avoiding the emotional sappiness that usually spawned around the holiday season. If it could make him happy, he brushed it off like dust on his jacket until the world went back to _normal_. Because Dean thought being unhappy was normal.

Sam often told you that there was a time that Dean was the one to insist on celebrating, simply because it cheered his younger brother up when their dad was gone for long periods. Now, after everything in the last decade, Dean thought that he deserved to be this way, even when people continued to try and tell him otherwise.

At the moment, he was sipping on a beer and watching one of his usual Spanish Novellas with Cas. Every few minutes, Dean leaned in to murmur what was happening, and although you knew Cas could understand every spoken word (unlike Dean), Cas was savvy enough to let Dean explain the emotional pitfalls of the characters, rather than guessing the reasons as to why Carlos was having an affair with his nurse, when he had a perfectly suitable partner at home.

You watched from the vicinity of the corner where you and Sam had put up the Christmas tree. You were waiting for Sam to come back from a shop run so he could put up the little Angel. You had been hoping to entice Dean to do it, in the hopes that participation would lift him a little, but he'd scrunched up his nose and shrugged. "Get Sammy to do it. Save using a ladder." He'd gone to the fridge, gotten his beer, and sidled up to the couch to stay there for the night.

You sighed, unfolding your arms. Maybe you could get his spirits up tomorrow for Christmas day. You and Sam had planned out the whole of it. Plenty of food, beer, eggnog, and nothing but the three of you (four if Cas had no obligations in Heaven).

There was a friendly shout from above, and Sam returned, carrying the last of their haul to keep everyone fed for the next few days.

Dean, surprisingly, went to bed fairly early. You hadn't expected it, but you didn't question it further. It gave you, Sam, and even Cas, time to get the last preparations done. Dean's gifts were brought out to put under the tree, the Angel - you had made it up to look like Cas, a little trench coat and all - placed on top of the tree, and sprigs of mistletoe were hung on as many surfaces as possible. Anything to add to tradition.

The food was ready to go into wherever they needed to be, the table was set, and three pies of varying flavor were waiting in the fridge. The smell of them cooking was going to be divine.

With a swift kiss on Cas and Sam's cheek, you bid them goodnight and eagerly got ready for bed. Finally settling under the covers, you wriggled and bit your lip to try and rid yourself of some of the excitement that Christmas never failed to bring, and sighed deeply.

Dean wasn't going to know what to do with himself.

You were up early. It couldn't be helped. No matter how old you got, you were still first up. Dressed in fluffy pajamas with reindeer, you set to work on turning on the oven and pulling out the pots and pans. Basting the turkey, and covering it with foil so it didn't burn, you heaved it in, and then got started on breakfast. By the time Sam sleepily wandered in the door, there were pancakes, waffles, cereal, bacon, eggs, sausages, mushrooms, tomatoes, coffee, orange juice, and everything else that you could think of, laid out on the table.

"Mor-ning," Sam yawned, slumping forward over your back at the stove while you finished cooking the last slices of bacon. He curved his arms around you, and rested his chin on your head. "Merry Christmas."

You smiled, plated up the last bit of bacon, and turned to hug him in return. "Morning, and Merry Christmas to you too."

Cas arrived, the small breeze wafting at his arrival smelling of cold air. You and Sam shivered, but released each other. You gave Cas a hug and a kiss on the cheek, wishing him a Merry Christmas. He squeezed you in return with a fond smile, before moving immediately to give Sam the same treatment. Sam laughed, but hugged the Angel, giving him a few slaps on the back.

They began talking, but you noticed there was still no sign of Dean. Shuffling down the corridors, you came to his door and knocked without preamble, banging your knuckles in random, rapid patterns until he groaned at you to stop.

"I hope you're decent!" you called, turning the handle and cracking open the door. He was sprawled out on his stomach, one leg sticking out and hanging off the end, sheets tangled around him.

Face mushed into a pillow, he squinted at you. "Time is it?"

You smiled, padding across the floor until you could flop on top of him. He grunted. "About nine." Resting your hands on his waist ("Cold!" he yelped.), you bussed a kiss on his bare shoulder blade, before turning your cheek to the hot skin. "Merry Christmas."

He hummed, seemingly content to let you use him as a mattress. You inwardly cheered. On top of plans to have an awesome Christmas day, you had decided to bestow Dean with as much affection as possible in twenty-four hours.

"Do I smell food?"

"Yes."

"You're awesome."

"You're welcome. C'mon. Up you get!"

"M'kay."

You crawled off, stretched, and turned for the door. His bath robe was hanging on a hook. You turned and tossed it over his head. "Hurry up, or I'll eat all of it," you sang.

Knowing your appetite was as large as his, Dean struggled to get up, get out of his sheets, and into his robe in less than thirty seconds. Boxers on, the rest of him bare but his open robe, and he was crowding you out the door with his hands wrapped around your waist and chin on your shoulder. "No way in hell you gettin' all that food before me."

You laughed and let him steer you towards the kitchen.

The day was spent like this:

You and Dean competed for eating the most food before dinner even started.

You all got dressed (except Cas because Cas is never not dressed) and you spent several hours on the couch with Dean while you both groaned your regrets at breakfast, leaving Sam and Cas to do clean up.

Presents were exchanged. Sam couldn't stop gushing at his new fitness guru magazine subscription, along with a new charm bracelet that warded off different Monsters, and a new journal. Cas was confused by his gift of _How to please your partner, written by Robert Furlow._ It was surprisingly vague on who the partner was, until one got to the specific chapters one felt that they needed. Dean's cheeks went a tiny bit pink when Cas looked at him curiously. "I didn't get it, man. Don't look at me." Cas sent a curious, considering look to Sam, who was oblivious, busy as he was flicking briefly through his magazine. And Dean was pleasantly surprised by a new repair kit for the Impala, but he was silent when you gave him, Sam, and Cas matching necklaces that were warded to keep them safe where possible. Sam thanked you with a long, tight hug. Cas ran his fingers over the amulets and thanked you with a soft tone that suggested he was pleased and touched you had included him. Dean just stared, coughed, and then nodded his head with a sharp "Thanks." He didn't look at you, but you felt that it was enough for now.

Sam checked on dinner. Cas left during this time to check in on a call he'd received from Heaven. "Nothing too serious, I should think. Supervision, mostly. I will be back as soon as I am able."

You set up all Dean's favorite movies to one side of the TV, and inserted the first disc into the DVD player. He made a noise of pleasant surprise and you curled up into his side on the couch. He sank down further, and hugged you to him. It wasn't long before you fell asleep to his rumbling laughter at Larry, Curly, and Mo.

Dean woke you with a light shake. You sighed and raised your head to wipe the drool off the side of your mouth and Dean's t-shirt. He chuckled and kissed your forehead, keeping his arms around you for a moment longer. "Dinner's ready."

Sam had made sure to do his best to do his brother proud. Dean was the cook in the family really, but you and Sam had wanted to give him no obligations for the day. You had set up instructions in case he needed anything, but he'd outdone himself. The food was amazing. You and Dean spent the entire dinner mumbling your appreciation between bites.

Afterwards, Cas returned in time to watch in mute alarm as both you and Dean finished half a pie each. "As soon as this settles," you said, patting your stomach, "I'll be back for seconds."

"Here, here!" Dean crowed, throwing up a free hand that wasn't undoing the top button of his jeans.

You did go back for seconds, Dean not far behind you.

For some reason, none of you ended up under any of the mistletoe. It wasn't until you started asking them about it, that Cas confessed that he'd been moving it around, "...by Dean's request."

"Cas, you traitor!" Dean cried with a mock scowl. "There's only four of us here. Mistletoe is inappropriate if not surrounded by copious amount of chicks." He threw a pillow at the Angel seated in an armchair beside you (since Dean was too comfortable on the couch to attack outright), but Cas didn't move on time. It struck his face with a _flump_, before dropping to his lap.

No one said anything for a moment, until Cas' features turned confused, and then you couldn't hold in your laughter. Sam followed suit from the other side of the couch. Dean's mouth twitched, but he kept his scowl. Finally, when he couldn't take your laughter any more, he attacked you, tickling your sides until you shrieked for Sam to help. Sam did help, but he didn't help you.

"No, stop! Stop! I can't! I need to pee! Guys!" Breathless and face hurting from smiling, you demanded Cas help you escape. Suddenly you were across the room, his trench coat fluttering around your legs. Cas looked smug beside you, hand under your elbow.

"That's cheating!" Sam shouted.

"Get 'em!"

Unable to stop laughing, you and Cas played tag around the Bunker with the boys trying to keep up.

It was two o'clock in the morning, and you were just about to head into the cusp of a dead sleep from the day you had, when Dean shifted beside you. You were both still dressed - sans shoes -, arms and legs tangled together on top of his covers after a midnight snack of more pie. Cas, having thanked them for the day, had left earlier, and Sam had gone to bed in a muzzy, but happy, eggnog stupor.

Hot breath that smelled like blueberry wafted across your cheek. "Thanks."

You smiled, turning your head towards him. You bumped noses, until he moved and gave you a chaste kiss on your lips. You hummed, pursing your lips to return it. You could feel him smile, when he retreated, before inching down the bed so he could bury his head at your neck with a sigh. He threw his arm across you, and you hugged it to you and leaned your head on his.

Beside you, draped over the clock, was Dean's new amulet.

All in all, not a bad first Christmas with the boys.

Notes: Just a little fic gifted to a friend of mine for Christmas. I never thought to post it as a thing until the other day and I like the occasional fluff, and let's face it the boys (especially Dean) need some affection and looking after sometimes. Also, I'm Irish, so I may have missed a few stray u's in there. I try my best to fix dialect etc but I can still go on automatic.


End file.
